Reunion
by slugmanslime
Summary: After three years of training and six days apart, two young Saiyans are left wondering where their friendship stands. Currently a one-shot with two DBZ OC's, will possibly transition into a multi-chapter fic. Dragon Ball Z and any affiliated characters are owned by Akira Toriyama! (not me)


The first thing that she noticed was how different the air was. It was much crisper, and didn't have that strange stale lilt to it that she doubted anyone but her noticed. The same heaviness that had weighed upon her shoulders when she passed through the doorway into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber vanished as if it had never existed at all. Hell, maybe it hadn't. There were a lot of things that Aspara was beginning to pick up on, that didn't quite seem to exist. Mere inches out of the doorjamb and it was as if her feet were cemented to the ground when every doubt, every fear, every thought that had been quelled and assuaged by her training was pushing at the surface, looking to break free once more. 

Three years it had been for the young woman and her surly Namekian mentor; three grueling years of mental and physical battle, emotional bonding, and all around healing. But to the rest of their companions, a mere 3 days had come and gone. A few simple days of fighting, eating, sharing laughs, and getting fully into the swing of having two more children around with Saiyan blood. One of whom Aspara despised and couldn't get away from and the other… A heavy, clawed hand descended on her shoulder and startled her from her reverie. 

"You would think after all that time you could control your ki better. Stop being so nervous." She responds with a scowl, gazing up at Piccolo over her shoulder. 

"I'm not nervous! I'm anxious, there's a difference." Aspara smirked and finally forced herself forwards, drinking in the halls of Kami's Lookout with fresh eyes. Perhaps now that they were finished with the first leg of her training, she could spend some time here with Dende and practice her meditation. Piccolo would have her hide if she stopped working with her ki.

There were times when her predisposed Saiyan rage would win through and she nearly caused a brawl with her mentor due to his natural knack for testing her patience. As much as Aspara loved learning new languages and studying the history of planets, there was something about exchanging blows and learning difficult sets of kata that satisfied her like nothing else. Of course, these were all important in Piccolos opinion—a strong mind worked the best with a strong body—but to try and reach her full potential they would spend hours upon hours at a time simply meditating. He would sit stoically, silently, murmuring to her mentally how she much reach within herself to the core and feel how her life force flowed—coursing through her like the ocean yet standing as firm as a mountain. It was a fifty-fifty chance that Aspara would get frustrated and think about swimming or hiking instead, much to her mentor's annoyance.

The stone of the outer patio was warm under the soft soles of her shoes, and Aspara blinks slowly, adjusting her eyes to the natural sunlight she had been starving for. Too busy marveling at a blue sky that she knew wouldn't turn into a blank slate, she didn't have time to register the lanky princeling lurking in the same area, braced with his back against one of the large marble pillars a handful of yards away. An airy voice fills the void between them, something familiar that'd taken on a foreign hardness.

"You look older," Aspara whipped her head towards the source of the voice, brows furrowing. "Not much taller though. Shame."

Tatsoi was expressionless, and she hadn't expected any less from him considering the circumstances of their last meeting. She can't suppress a small wince, drawing her arms to fold across her chest as she eyes him sorrowfully.

"Yes, well, older and wiser, I guess they say. You're still here? I would've thought you'd be rendezvousing with my br—with Argus." The scowl felt natural onher face at this point, and she attributed the fact to the only person she had spent the last three years with. Speaking of the devil (demon, rather), Aspara sensed his ki lingering behind her, in the depths of the hallways. He must have sensed Tatsoi before she did and wanted to give them… quality time.

She didn't want quality time with this version of her friend.

Though his crimson locks glinted in the dying sunlight, his incompatible eyes did not have the same luster as he stood tall, very tall. He and Vegeta had spent their three years in the chamber before them, and she had hardly had time to grow accustomed to his new self before engaging in the same training. A sigh graces her lips, puffing into the muggy air without much gusto.

Tatsoi took his time strolling up to her, but was still giving her a few feet of personal space as he studied her. She wasn't supposed to feel self-conscious, but the way he had last spoken to her brooked much confusion on how he viewed her now. "I already have. Things have changed dramatically over the last week, for all three of us, wouldn't you say?"

"You're kind of forcing me to agree. I couldn't care less about that brat though, but I'm sure he was thrilled with your transition, thanks to Vegeta's… training." Disdain was thick in her voice, her words dripping with them, and despite his calloused remark about her height, she only had to tilt her head marginally to hold his gaze.

"Thrilled is one way to describe it. He even acted like he'd missed me. I'm still flattered." If she hadn't been so close to his face she would have missed the way his lips quirked upwards for a millisecond, hinting at more than he was letting on. Fine. Let him have his secrets.

"I would be disgusted if I were you. Good thing I'm not. You that is." Aspara tosses her head to the side, unused to having to be so calloused with him. "I still am kind of disgusted, actually, I won't lie to you."

Hands firmly in his pockets, the princeling blinks at her slowly—she couldn't tell if he was getting bored with her or simply didn't care. Aspara didn't know which one infuriated her more. "I know you are. Its debatable whether its righteous but, then again, you've never really been able to let things go, have you?"

Her lips peeled back into a snarl, arms lashing to her side with clenched fists. "And just what do you think you know about me, Tatsoi?" The way she uttered his name is only a step above a spit. "How many months were we friends before you disappeared with that lunatic and came back some—some hoity-toity snobbish jerk? You don't know me. I doubt you ever even wanted to!"

"Of course I wanted to. But I was broken, and all you wanted to do was fix me. I wanted to know you, to know true friendship, but it's like you saw how desperate I was and…" Tatsoi's throat flexed at this first display of emotion. "I never had a mother, and I damn sure didn't need you to become one."

Bile rose in her throat and her mask of anger morphed into one of shock and embarrassment. How unfair it was of her former friend to throw such low blows—it wasn't as if she had been trying to smother him with any maternal instincts. And yet, the shame remained. Was Aspara really so far gone that she couldn't form normal platonic friendships with people, even those of her own race? Her arms return to their protective position across her chest, and she damn near chokes on an apology that she can't seem to spit out.

"You didn't need a mother, you're right Tatsoi. What you needed was love, and compassion, and I'm sorry I ever tried to give that to you. I'm just thankful that dear Prince Vegeta rejected me, or I may have ended up like you."

Like him? Tatsoi clamped his jaw shut, anger flaring wildly for a moment before he reigns it in, and stared coldly down his nose at her. He was better now, better than all of them! Aspara, Argus, Piccolo—he had a clear mind that could focus, he could separate his emotions from battle, and he didn't need her fucking compassion.

"What, you mean stronger? Faster, more honed, vicious, and precise? Yes, how terrible that would have been, wouldn't it?" The words rolled off his tongue in a droll manner, as if he was having to explain all of this to a child. Which is funny, considering the fact that she was even more his senior now. There was a little voice in the back of his head, the one that was telling him that he was being petulant and she cared about him, but he shut it down fast. The princeling remarks quietly to himself that he's getting good at that.

Something akin to pride swells in his chest at the look of complete indignation and enraged longing that overcomes the older Saiyans features; it served her right for thinking that they could both train to become stronger and still stay so open with each other. Maybe if the princeling was being fair he would say something about the plan that he and his mate had hatched, but why should he? This planet was a proverbial gold mine—and would stay that way depending on if they could capture and kill the beast they had accidentally brought as a house-warming gift. Regardless, there was an odd sensation smothering the smugness that was all too familiar and unwelcome at the same time. His thoughts were mingling with his feelings, regret and contempt battling for a stronger hold. He doesn't allow either to be victorious however, turning on heel and using a leisurely gait to carry him across the cobbled patio until he reached the steps.

"It would serve you well to stay away from us, from now on. Unless you're looking for a fight." Stunning mismatched sapphire eyes lock with damson ones for a moment before flickering forwards again. "Not that you would win, if my memory serves me right."

"Ha!" The simple, barked laughter was scorned and sour. "That was three years ago, _soldier_. Next time our paths cross, I may just have to remind you of that."

Distantly, he heard Aspara's footsteps retreating haughtily as she sought out her mentor, and the quavering of her ki alerted him to her heightened emotional state. Pathetic; not even three years with the gruffest alien on the planet could teach the girl how to control her energy.

He continued sensing her ki spikes for miles after he jettisons from the Lookout's steps. The voice whispered once more in his mind that he wouldn't be able to feel her so vividly if he didn't still care for her. With a cool, collected mental flick of the wrist, he quieted his mother for the last time that day. Tatsoi was sick unto death of shutting her up.


End file.
